The Boy With The Deadly Mark
by Like.Wait.WHAT
Summary: "I will not bow down to you." Draco gritted, slim fingers encircle around the newly marked arm. Voldemort smirked "You will my boy. And now for your disobedience. Crucio!" All Draco new was cutting pain, inflaming his whole body...DM/HG *REVIEW!*
1. Preface

**A/N: This story came in a dream. I woke up, and wrote it all down, because I thought it was so good. It is my very first Draco and Hermione story, so please go easy on me, but if you think there too much out of character, then please do point it out. But I will try my very best to keep them as close in character as I can. Of course the two will be a bit OC, mostly because as I recall the two really didn't get together in Harry Potter, so I am going to bend them a bit…But anyways leave a review. **

**And enjoy this story.**

**Thank you! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. As sad as that is…. **

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**The Boy With The Deadly Mark:**

Preface:

The place was dark, and clammy. Somewhere in the distance a leaking faucet was an endless noise of patter-patter. '_The noise was a bit calming' _Draco thought uninterested, his pale fingers twisted in a tangled, knot underneath his black cloak. He wouldn't even be here in this mess if it weren't for his father. Draco gashed his teeth at the thought of his father, staring ahead; he bored a hole in the back of the unknown Death Eaters head. His gray eyes acting as a laser beam. He was led through the underground, until the two came across a throne. The chair was high up, draped in silk green, and silver. Sitting in that chair was the darkest wizard alive –Voldemort.

Voldermort was an ugly beast all his own. His eyes were ruby red embed into his bone-white, pale skull. Small openings –two slender slits penetrated him, formulating a nose. Voldermort was bald as a first-born baby, not one hair to be seen. First glance at Voldermort and your think he resembled a snake–witch was what Voldermort valued most _snakes._ '_He is a snake'_. Draco thought icily.

"Draco Malfoy," it was spoken quietly, making Draco's insides turn to gooey mush. On the outside Draco's face was impassive, cold, no fear to be seen. On the inside however was a completely different story. His insides were screaming in fear, yelling to run away, and hide.

"Yes My' Lord," the words were acid in his mouth, burning his tongue. He wished so badly he could _Accio _a toothbrush to wash out his mouth from the horrid taste, maybe a swish of mouth wash too…something cinnamon.

You see. It's been a while since Draco has changed his ways. As a young boy he looked up to his father as an idol of some sort, had believed in what his father believed in–that one day the Dark Lord will take over the magic world, and rightful so. However it's been close to two years since Draco started to think a bit differently about his father's evil 'ways'. The light and the dark stared to blur together for Draco, his mind's always stuck in turmoil. It's hard to think when your father's constantly filling his brain with all he 'thinks' is wrong in the world. Dose Draco really believed in everything he has been told? Truthfully, he didn't know anymore. What he did know was, and started to believe in. He was just sick of living his life in fear. What's a life in fear? Not a very good one for sure.

That's why he's been dreading the time for him to receive his dark mark. Once he was marked, he would be forever blinded to Voldermort, as one of his. There would never be a way out. Draco wouldn't be Draco Malfoy anymore. But Voldermort's death eater–a side kick. An unnamed slave. Did he want that? No.

But his father's been in glee, and waiting in excitement for his son to be marked as a Dearth Eater. Just like him. Draco was supposed to get it the day before his seventeenth birthday (when all the other Hogwarts students would get it, that followed the Dark Lord) witch was still a month away. He had all that time to come up with a plan out of it. But something told him. Voldermort knew that.

"It's come to my attentions that your," Voldermort waved his hand, as if he was looking for the right words "Not clear as to what you want anymore. Is this true?"

"No My Lord," Draco replayed a tiny waver in his voice. Otherwise he was pretty steady.

_SLAM!_

The noise rebounded off the cement walls, circling around the room. Voldermort stood. His face painted in anger "Don't lie to me!" His lips curved in a sneer.

"But…But I am not."

Voldermort now stood in front of him. With two gaunt fingers, he clasped Draco chin, jerking his head up, so the two were almost eye-to-eye "Draco I know the way your mind wonders. It's going in two different directions. Should I follow him? Or should I be my own person? It has been for some time. That is why I have summoned you here tonight." He hissed.

Draco swallowed thickly. His mouth felt like it was stuffed with puffy cotton balls, so dry he couldn't swallow. Draco had no clued what to do as Voldermort stared at him with fiery red eyes, the smell of rotten corpse wafting from him, and staining Draco's nostrils.

"My Lord?"

In a blink of an eye Voldermort let go, pushing Draco away. Wand pointing at Draco, Voldermort hissed. But that was unimportant as pain was the only thing Draco knew next, _unbelievable_ pain. That source of the pain was coming from his arm. Draco clutched it to his chest as he felt his forearm combust in sizzling heat. It tingled up the whole flash of his arm; feeling like tiny coal rock was being pressed, deep into his skin. Draco quickly pulled up the arm of his sleeve, with jerky movements. Like an invisible ink pen, Draco watched in horror, as the black ink drew in the skull, then the snake shooting out of the open mouth and eye sockets, coiling around the skull's head. His legs felt like jelly, not able to hold his weight no longer. He collapsed to his knees, all the while never removing his eyes from his newly inked forearm.

Slowly the pain in his arm ebbed away.

The one in his chest however didn't.

"Now," he purred, "You have no confusion thoughts. You are what you are my boy –my _faithful_ Death Eater. Won't daddy be so proud?"

Draco looked up at him through his hank of sweaty blond hair "I won't bow done to you." He gritted.

Voldermort cackled. It sounded like nails, screeching down a chalkboard, "You will," he lifted his wand again "And now for your disobedience. _Crucio!" _

Draco felt his body quiver in agony, as every cell screamed in misery. Draco curled in a ball trying to appear smaller. His mind wondering away from the pain his body had to endure. His mind forced on his mother. His sweet mother, whose always been there to care for him when is father was off doing missions. She would sing him lullabies. Make everything in the word right for him, even though the world was a curl place. Now he had no clue where she was, if she was hurt. But all he knew is, he had his father to blame.

"_Diffindo!" _Voldermort's voice cut through him. He felt his flesh cut open, as Voldermort repeated the spell over and over again, adding a new slice into his flesh, decorating Draco's skin with deep gashes.

Draco's mind went numb now too.

Then all of a sudden it stopped.

"_EXPELLARMUS!" _a deep-unmasked voice yelled ripping through the torture Draco was being inflected upon. Voldermort screamed in anger and surprised. Fingers gasped Draco injured body. Then the two popped away leaving behind an angry, dark wizard, in their wake.

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	2. Chapter One

_Next chapter on the way Oh but before you get comfy and read this chapter, just gotta say one thing. All the other books happened all ready, all expect the seventh one. So everything happened up into the very last one. _

_Now please enjoy_

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><p>Chapter One:<p>

Hermione looked around the round table with a heavy heart. It was packed with members of the Order, herself, Ron and Harry. Usually the Burrow's air would be perfumed with joy, jokes, and happiness, and the funny yet annoying jokes of the twins. But of late, you wouldn't find that here. Now mostly all everyone talks about are planes –planes on how to defeat the darkest wizard– Hermione singed as she picked at her cold food, with her fork, her eyes downcast, but still she had one ear on the conversation's being held around her.

"What do you reckon he's up to now?" Ron asked in a hushed voice.

Harry looked troubled. Shrugging his shoulders, he replayed, "I'm not to sure Ron, but it can't be good." The boy who lived replayed.

"That's for sure." Ron mumbled agreeable, stuffing his face with mash potatoes, the white substance sticking to the corner of his lips.

Hermione looked up, rolling her eyes. She tossed him a paper towel "Ron, gross." She then looked at Harry "I hate to ask, but…have you been." She lowered her voice, as not to be heard by the adults, "'dreaming' lately?"

Harry shook his head, leaning closer to her "Nope. I think he's up to something. That might be the reason why he's been blocking me out." Harry whispered, his green eyes flashing in worry. "Why'd else you think he's doing that?"

Hermione bit her lip, thoughtfully. Hermione was known as the 'know it all' –a title she was proud of– but this was something she had no clue to. It had been very recent that Harry had found out he was connected to Voldemort, that no other was. The two were linked, forever attached –until one of them dies– that gave Harry a change to nose dive into Voldemort's evil mind, rather it was on accident or on purpose.

It felt like it was just yesterday when Harry had found out the news. During the Six year, Dumbledore thought it best to give Harry 'lessons'. Every few months Dumbledore set a date to have those lessons. That was where Harry had learned his link with Voldemort and the key way to kill him.

_Harry had stumbled through the portrait hole, his face ash white, and green eyes unfocused. Hermione had shut her book with a snap that she had been reading, looking at Harry in deep concern. Harry dropped on the couch, next to Ron, like a puppet, and mutely started at the dying fire. When it was apparent he wasn't going to say anything all, fed up Hermione spoke up, "Harry, are you all right?" _

_Harry shook his head. _

"_What happened with Dumbledore?" Ron cut in, egger. Hermione shot him a heated glare, how could he be that heartless? Didn't he see that his best friend was in some kind of shock? The fact that Harry was in obviously deep pain was clear as day, but before Hermione could start one of her lecturers, Harry spoke. _

"_I know how to defeat Voldemort,"_ H_arry said evenly, green eyes locked on the dead ambers of the fire. _

_Both Ron and Hermione stared at him in utter shock, the air around them thickened like thick syrup. This… this was huge news! Hermione slowly got up, and kneeled in front of him, pushing her face in front of his distorted eyes, "Harry…could you explain?"_

_Harry averted his eyes, staring at the wall over Hermione's head. "Those memories I had to visit…there was a reason for it after all," he replayed softly. _

"_You mean Dumbledore haven't gone nutters?" Ron asked._

_Hermione gritted her teeth, reaching over, she grabbed a red pillow, hurtling it towards the red head. She heard an 'oaf' and smiled satisfied. Looking back at Harry she said "Go on."_

_Harry took a deep breath and started from the beginning. Telling them the beginning to the end in great detail. Every tick of the clock that went by, both Hermione and Ron's jaw dropped more and more…._

Hermione smiled slightly at the bittersweet memory. The three didn't go to bed into early morning. And when she did tuck herself away for some sleep, she was cursed with dreams about everything she had learned from Harry.

"I don't know, I just don't know." Hermione finally replayed, she ran her hand through the tangled of curls, aggravated. This was really frustrating, more so for Hermione. She's gone through life knowing everything, as she is the brightest witch of her age, but this…this was even out of her league. And she hated that.

Molly walked over to them, placing a hand on Ron and Harry's back "Why don't you lot go out for some fresh air, yah?"

Harry shook his head "Thanks, but I would like to be here," Harry said, looking around the table. The order was in deep conversation, and Harry felt like he belonged here, Hermione new. After all, know matter what, this was Harry's battle, and know one else's. Sure he could have some help –more the better– but in the very end, Harry had to finish it for good.

Molly frowned "Are you sure dear?"

Harry gave her a small smile, nodding "I'm sure."

She singed "Well all right," she rubbed his back.

A loud '_Bang' _had everyone fall quiet.

"What was that?" Ron asked, eyes wide as saucers.

Tonks shot Lupin a look. Simultaneously they got up, drawing out wands. The Order followed suit. Ron, Harry and Hermione, followed in the rear of the large group. The bang had come from the front door. With Tonks in the lead, she slowly walked towards the door, Lupin close behind her.

"Who is it!" Lupin bellowed, malicious, the werewolf taking charge.

"It is I Severus Snape." The familiar voice spoke up, behind the slab of wood.

The group relaxed some. A few of the Order drop their arms down, but Lupin never wavered, "What was the potion you brewed me when I worked at Hogwarts?"

Snap didn't even miss a beat "Wolfsbane potion. Now can you open up?"

Satisfied with the answer, Lupin pockets his wand, letting him in. Everyone gasped at the sight. Standing hunched over was Snap, covered in red blood. Snap was wearing a black cloak, blotches of red splattered over the sleeve. It wasn't Snape's blood however. Leaning against him for support was Draco Malfoy. His pale skin was a sickly white, eye's half closed, his cloak was sliced, thick red oozing from the slits of the cloak. Securely he kept his one arm pressed against his chest, his blond hair matted in dirt, hanged over his eyes. He looked close to passing out.

Molly ran over, fretting over the two, "What happened?"

Snape heaved Draco up, as if he weighed nothing "I am fine Molly. It's the boy I'm worried about," Snape said quietly.

The three watched the scene wary, Ron leaned closer to the other two "What the bloody hell happened to him?"

"I have no clue." Hermione said, eyes on the limp body of Draco Malfoy.

Molly led Snap up the stairs, all the while flying out questions. Slowly the Order receded back to their seats at the table, all wondering the same thing. Lupin, Tonks and the three stayed put.

"Did you see the shape of him? That poor boy," Tonks said, shaking her head.

Ron burst out laughing "Whaaa…?" he chuckled out. Ron shook his head amused "Draco Malfoy and poor boy do _not_ belong in the same sentence. The ferret had it coming to him."

"Ron!" Both ladies yelled.

Sure Hermione had a strong dislike for the boy too, but Draco looked like he had been dragged to hell, and back again, no one deserves that. Even there enemy, Draco Malfoy.

"That's a horrible thing to say. No one deserves that," Hermione scowled.

"Well…I'm glad you think so Hermione. Because you will be nursing him back to heath." Lupin said.

The curly hair witch spun around "_What_?"

Lupin looking remorseful, "You're the best when it comes to healing," he said.

Hermione stared at him in horror. Okay, so she did say she had _some_ compassionfor him, but that was more or less her kindness speaking. She did not however want anything to do with him.

"But…but what about Snape? I'm sure he could do it." Hermione attempted.

"As mush as this pains me," a new voice spoke. Everyone turned towards the staircase, watching Snape descend, "But Lupin is right. Your are the best, and I can't be here…I have other matters to attend to," his coal eyes darted around the room, landing on Hermione last, "Is that clear."

Hermione bowed her head "Yes Sir," she mumbled.

"Good," he clipped. With his robes bellowing behind him like a black wing, he left without another word.

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><p>Hermione peeked into the darkened room. The curtains were drawn shut. The only light emitted from a small lamp on the small dresser, next to the bed… the bed that had Malfoy lying on. He looked to be sleeping…Hermione blew out a breath in relief. This would go down so much simpler, if Draco stayed asleep, until he was healed. It was a nice thought, but very doubtful.<p>

With her head held high, she walked into the room, rounding the bed. She peered closer at him. It has been a few months since she last seen Malfoy. He didn't look as babyish in the face. No. Instead his face had a manlier look. His lips fuller, and jaw more defined. His hair was different too. Instead of it being gel back, it was loose of the confinement that the gooey gel had caused. The white-blond locks dangled in front of his eyelids.

"Stop staring Granger," the voice was raspy, and broke Hermione out of her viewing.

That was all it was. She was viewing him, nothing more.

She darted her eyes up, locking with steel gray eyes. "I wasn't staring," she said, hostel "I…I was checking you over. Because I got the _lovely _job of healing you back to health."

Draco tried to sit up, groaning in the effort "Your sarcastic is really unwanted right now."

"Don't move!" Hermione said.

Draco glared at her, but otherwise stayed put. Hermione was sure it was because of the pain of moving, then actually listening to her. Hermione blew out a breath.

He narrowed his eyes, "Where the bloody hell am I anyways?" he asked.

"The Burrow," she replayed, receiving her wand. "Now I need to fix you up, okay?"

"What if I don't want you to fix me?" Draco challenged.

Hermione's grip on her wand tightened. It took a lot of effort not to stick the wand up the jerks ass. "Then you can lay here in pain all day, for all I care," Hermione said bluntly. "So either you shut up, or be a good boy, and let me help heal you. What is it going to be?"

Draco glared at her for a second, one movement of his arm, shot pain down his arm, like a cord of eclectic. Hermione smiled when he relaxed down, and mutely stared at her. That looked like giving in to her.

She sat on the side of him, carefully pulling the blankets down. He still had his cloak on. So with her fingertips, she tenderly helped him out of it. He was biting his bottom lip hard, trying to keep the sound of pain to fall from his lips. Hermione made soothing sounds. Now she was in her Healer mode. It wasn't Hermione and Draco, archenemies, but Healer and patient. She was too much of a professional to let hatred get in the way of the job. When she discarded the bloody cloak, she gathered his shirt, and removed that, also discarded it. Draco's chest was littered with deep gashes. Red blood caked deeply in.

Hermione looked over the wound with a Healer's eyes. She new what could help "I will be right back and don't move." She warned. Before he could snap back at her, she fled the room.

When she returned to the room, in her hand was a potion. The liquid was thick and purple. Hermione smiled as Draco eyed it "What is that muck?" he asked, nose stiffing in distaste.

"It's a wound-cleaning potion. It will heal you right up," she replayed. Hermione sat back down, and dap a bit of the purple liquid on the pad of her thumb. She started to rub it on his wounds, it whizzed, and a cloud of smoke, floated above the slice. Draco hissed, "It will sting for a second." She said softly.

Hermione continue to rub the potion on every wound, before long the cuts on his chest and back disappeared, until smooth skin was left "Feel better?" she asked, placing the empty bottle next to the lamp.

"Yeah," he mumbled.

Hermione stared at him. She noticed two things when entering the room. One he never kept his eyes on her for long, but averted them elsewhere, and two, he was careful to keep one of his arms facing down, and out of her sight.

She shook her head. At the moment it wasn't her problem, she got her job down, healing his cuts, which was all that mattered. Hermione stood up "You should eat something," she said.

"Not hungry," Draco grumbled, heaving the blanket up, to cover his naked chest…and arm.

Hermione crossed her arms "I didn't ask. I told you. So you better shut up, and eat whatever I make. Got it?"

Draco glared at her. Hermione stood strong, glaring back. Not one to back down.

"Fine," he spat.

Hermione curtly nodded, spinning on her heels "Hey, Granger." She paused when Draco spoke her name.

"Yeah?" she glanced behind her.

"Thanks," he mumbled.

She turned, and stared hard at him. She was a bit surprised that he said thanks at all. She never expected it, nor wanted it. She only did this because it was the right thing to do.

"I would of healed anyone…just because I did doesn't mean I like you. I still hate you," Hermione replayed candidly.

Draco shrugged, "Good, then we'll on the same page…"

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><p>So how was it? Loved it? Hate it? Please leave a review and let me know! Thank you.<p> 


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